


Showing The Pain

by BlushingWidow



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Big Backstory, Cute but scary ish, Ghosts, Haunted Hotel, Hotel, Logan had to move, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-02 01:23:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15786087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlushingWidow/pseuds/BlushingWidow
Summary: Logan was spending the night in an old Victorian hotel. Before he was about to go into his room, he could he a quiet harp playing from inside it.





	Showing The Pain

**Author's Note:**

> Before you read this, I would like to say that this will be really bad...Just a warning... ALSO, I may not finish this...because it's way too long but please enjoy! this is the longest story I've ever done...Yeah spooky stories are coming early!

(Logan)

It was pouring it down when Logan arrived at the hotel. He had to get away from all the shouting and screaming at home. Yes, his parents were having another argument. Something about the bills not being paid but he decided to mute it. If he joined the conversation, he would have to choose one side- mother or farther. Both of them had pros and cons so he couldn't stay. He looked for a cheap hotel that wasn't too far from the madness and opted for 'Victorian-Venture.'

Usually, 3-star hotels would be immediately crossed out but the 'bills' didn't give him an option. It wasn't that bad- for 3 stars. When they said Victorian, they sure meant it. The hotel looked out of place from the others. Instead of being brand-new with the best of the best materials, It was very 'ancient.'

As Logan stepped inside, the smell of dust engulfed his nose. The place looked like it hadn't been cleaned for years now. The tables were covered with a thick layer of dirt and the chandelier was full of cobwebs. Surprisingly, he preferred it like this. It's Victorian. It's should look old.

"How may I help you?" The lady sitting at the desk asked. Her hair was shoved up into a messy bun as she typed quickly on her Microsoft-Windows. Jeez, he hasn't seen one of them in years. As a kid, he wasn't allowed the 'cool things' other kids had. That's what made him different- that's one of the cons about his mother.

"Salutations, I requested a reservation here."

"Name?"

"Logan, Logan Sanders"

The women wrote a couple of things before turning back to the computer. There was a couple of minutes of silence before Logan's eyes started to wonder. He noticed that even if the place was beautiful, it was very remote. He also discovered huge paintings on the walls. The only one caught his eye was a man, looking roughly his age, smiling but had tears rolling down his face. Very sad but comforting in a way.

"Ah, you like the painting?" She smiled, her eyes darting between him and the photo.

"Indeed, May I ask who's it inspired by?"

Her eyes widened for a moment. She didn't look very comfortable answering but Logan needed to know. Even if it was very plain, it showed so much emotion.

"To tell the truth" The lady confessed "There used to be a father and a son that lived here, when the father passed away on a journey, the child painted that photo to show the pain and then..."

She shuddered before standing up. Logan noticed how she limped to the painting- implying she had an accident.

"Then the child died, In-room 205..."

Logan felt a rush of coldness take form of him. He didn't feel alone anymore. He knew something was here with him. The boy that painted this, died here- in room 205.

"Which room do I have?" He whispered.

The women slowly faced him. Her smile reappeared. Her face didn't look as old as it did a second ago. She looked more alive and happy.

"Oh, I wouldn't put ANYONE in 205" She rasped " Luckily, you booked 209"

Even if the room he was sleeping was far away. He was still staying inside a hotel in which a man had died in. It was the only choice, however. He would rather stay here than go back home.

"Um, Thank you..."

The woman limped back to the desk and swiftly placed the key card in his hand. The coldness inside of Logan was still there. He still felt the presence of something- or someone...

He quietly walked past the desk. The silence felt like weight shoved onto his shoulders. He knew an awful secret about this hotel but one thing is for sure...

 It's going to be a long night...

~I~

As Logan walked up the narrow stairs, all he could think about was her story. A man and a son lived were here, in this hotel... It wasn't much information but it would have to do. Maybe he would ask more tomorrow. Hearing a story like that, would make you want to leave- but not him. He needed more information. What was the journey? Who was the boy? They were the basic questions.

He noticed that the first number of the door was what floor it was on. If he had 119, for instance, he would be on floor 1. Sadly, he was on floor 2, which meant he was on the same floor as that boys 'room'.

To be honest, Logan didn't believe in any of that 'ghost' nonsense but this was different. The story had a meaning. Not just a riddle someone would tell you for Halloween. It felt real. It should be real.

Entering floor 2, his eyes caught onto even more paintings. 'Were these painted by the same boy?' he questioned, following them on. The first one was an empty swing, the next one was a green vase, the third one was a door. He wasn't concentrating on how far he went until he reached the empty swing painting- again.

'Wait, he thought, didn't I just?-'

He turned around to face a door. It was the door he just came through. Did he even move in the first place?

He shook the thought off. Maybe he was just imagining things.. Then walked down the hallway...again?

There it was, room 209, right in front of him. Just four doors away from 205. He could feel a shiver crawl up his spine. It was even colder than downstairs. 'Do they have heaters?' He thought. Well, it was a 3-star hotel so probably not.

He grabbed the key card and slowly placed it in the slot. He pushed. Nothing happened. He tried again but instead, he pulled. Nothing happened. 'Is the card broken?' He flapped the card a couple of times and tried again. Nothing happened. 'I'm at the right room, she said 20-'

'109'

Logan was on floor one, not two. He froze. He was on the right floor, now he's not. Is he going insane? Why is he on floor one? 'I was on two but now I'm not...'

...

"Um, what are you doing?"

He spun around to see the woman who he met at the desk. An awkward silence rose upon them. He knew how the woman would feel right now. Seeing a strange man trying to get into the wrong room. She's thinking he's mad...

"I was actually...l-looking for...you" Logan stated, trying to think of a good excuse to give this lady,

 

"I need to know more about that boy's death."

 

The whole hallway became extremely cold...

~I~

They were both sat on the same dusty couch. Not too close to make it awkward but not too far to make it seem uncomfortable.

Logan knew his hands were shaking but instead of helping them, he just hid them. He didn't want to make himself feel vulnerable to anyone- not even this woman.

"So you want to hear more about the boy?" She gulped, looking everywhere but his eyes.

"Indeed"

The woman froze for a couple of minutes. Time became slower and the lobby became colder. It was like the coldness depended on what feelings. He knew he was scared but was the woman?

"Well, firstly, the father's name was Thomas Sanders and his son was Patton" She paused before continuing, "This place wasn't a hotel at first...It was their home," "Before Thomas passed on the ...journey, he bought Patton a one-of-a-kind harp, we still have that harp in his room but it hasn't been touched..."

Logan had too many questions...There were too many gaps to be filled. He decided to take it slow...

"What do you mean by 'home?'"

The lady must have known this question would pop up someway, somehow...

"That room...that P-Patton died in, was originally his room.." "He turned this place into a hotel because he knew that that was what Thomas would want..."

"Okay" Logan sighed "Tell me more about this harp...Why that instrument?"

"Um, It was passed down for many generations and Thomas knew he wouldn't survive the journey so he gave it to Patton but..." "It was too early, He got too addicted to the harp and never left his room because he feels like he failed his father for leaving it...alone..."

'The journey' He thought. 'What does she mean?' This woman was avoiding telling Logan what she meant by journey...

"What journey did Thomas n-"

"Sometimes people would say the harp moves room to room but I've never seen it" the woman interrupted, pushing a couple of his buttons.

He knew that she was trying not to answer it. If he's asking questions, she will answer them.

"What journey did Thomas not survive" He finally mumbled, without any interruptions.

She slowly grabbed his hand, bringing him behind the desk. Was she still trying to avoid the question? Was she explaining it?

"I'm sorry sir but I can't answer that question" She barked, "I'll let you take the elevator to your room..."

'Elevator?' 'There wasn't an el-Wait, she's distracting me from my question' He thought.

He tried to speak but he was already in the lift. Going up...

 ~I~

Floor 2, finally.

Logan was still mad the woman avoided the question but who wouldn't? Maybe she was being watched? He shook the thought off while stepping out of the lift.

The hallway was a lot darker than floor 1. There weren't as many lights and no painting was hung. It sort of felt empty from the other rooms. It was very bare. Nothing to get distracted by.

He slowly walked down the halls. '201' he thought, '202, 203, 204...,205'

Of course, he couldn't enter the room but, he was very curious. The boy stuck with that harp but, why would he fail to leave it alone...

The hall became darker- in his opinion. 'I wished I had room '205' why didn't I j-'

He heard a noise further on, it sounded like...music? It wasn't coming from room 205 so which room. He carried on walking further and further. The music getting louder and louder until...Room 209...

The music was coming from his room...209...

Logan froze. He felt a trickle of sweat run down his face but didn't bother to wipe it. His hands were stuck to his sides, his feet were stuck to the ground. What could he do? The music was coming from the room he has to sleep in.

As slow as he could, he placed the key card in and pushed the door open.

This was it...

 

~I~

 

(Thomas)

"Dad, why did we move here?"

That's the question he wished he didn't have to answer. It was a very hard one. He couldn't tell the real reason they moved at his age- 10.

"Look...Kiddo, we're only gonna be here for a couple of months, I'll just tell you when you're older..."

Patton stared at his Dad until he got the idea. He let out a slow sigh as they continued walking to the house.

'Dad always says 'when you're older...It's not fair...'

He looked up to the see the house. It was massive. Brand-new and all. The window was a beautiful shade of brown and it looked so, good.

"Dad, We don't need a house this big...." Patton puffed, grabbing hold of his father's arm.

"Yes we do, I don't know, maybe you can turn into a hotel or something" Thomas joked, hoping his son would get it but...

"Oh, This will be the best hotel ever Dad...I won't let you down" He, Patton, chirped as he rushed to the doors.

Patton didn't take the hint most of the time, not even with jokes. It wasn't like he had a problem he just...had a mind of his own...He would often think every one is true about the word but, sometimes...it's not true...

'I'll make this the best hotel dad, This will be the best hotel ever'

 

~I~

(Logan)

The room looked normal. it looked like a normal hotel room. The kitchen was on the left and the living room was right in front of him. The music, however, stopped. It was just complete silence. Logan could feel pressure on his back but he didn't look back.

He flicked the light switch and headed to the couch. The chairs looked very old. It was very surprising because this room looked clean. It didn't look as ancient as the lobby, it was more- new.

Logan's eyes locked onto the bookshelf. It was full of different books like Alice In Wonder-Land to Noughts and crosses. 'This can't be this old, these books were only made a couple of years ago' He thought to grab onto one.

The book had a blank cover. No name, No author...Just a plain red book. He flicked to the first page to see:

"My Dearest Patton,

I didn't stay for long but, I hope this book will help you to-"

The rest was scribbled out. 'Who would do such a thing.'

He scrolled through the pages and noticed something. It wasn't a story, they were drawings. Not just any drawings either. They're the paintings on the walls. ''Did Thomas do they drawings or did Patton?'' He mumbled, passing through more. Most of the pages were either blank or ripped out by someone.

The feeling in Logan's stomach didn't fit. This book just made everything more confusing. 'Why would Patton use his dad's drawings as his own paintings. He got to the last page to notice more writing.

"You know I love you with all my heart, I even gave you your present early, but don't let that harp-"

'DON'T LET THE HARP WHAT!?' He thoughts shouted at him. He has even more question to think about. What was the harp for? Why is it scribbled out? What was the point of this book? Why can't these answers be-

"Could you please stop messing around with that?" A voice called.

Logan felt like his whole body had been dipped in water.

~I~

(Thomas)

'2 months, to tell Patton' Thomas thought walking around his room, '2 months to tell him I'm fine'

'2 months for him to le-'

"Dad, are you mad at me? Patton whispered, staring deep into his eyes.

This morning did not go well for Thomas. First, he found out that Patton broke his bed because he was jumping on it, next his maids are 4 weeks late!

'Those maids only have 2 months to get here...'

Thomas had a bad secret. He needed to tell his son but, he's way too young. There was no way without making him cry...'Maybe I should just tell him now..'

"Dad?" His son frowned, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Kiddo, look I need to, show you something, He smiled, "Let's just say it's an early birthday present"

That made his boy smile. "Oh, what is it?" "Is it a puppy?"

Thomas grabbed his son's hand and dragged him into his other room. It had a little kitchen on the left and a brand-new couch as you kept on walking.

"Just follow me and, tada"

Patton stared at the instrument in front of him.

"Wow, a harp?"

His face deflated. He thought it was going to be a big thing, like a cat or a basket full of puppies but a harp?

"We'll this harp was actually your mothers, and she wanted to give it to you for your 16" Thomas weakly smiled trotting forward to the instrument.

Patton's face scrunched up confused. He didn't know why but looking at his son's face made him feel...sad...

"Well if it was for my 16th, Why am I getting it now?"

Thomas froze- the two months had become 2 seconds...

~I~

(Logan)

He felt numb. really really numb. Was he holding the book? Who knows. The voice came from behind him but he wasn't turning. He wanted to but his legs were stuck.

"W-who a-are y-you?" He questioned, keeping his eyes on the bookshelf.

Silence.

Finally, Logan had the courage to turn around. When he tried to, however, the voice came back.

"Well you are in my hotel so wouldn't you know by now, Logan?"

Logan body completely shut off. The corners of his eyes were turning black and he couldn't breathe.

'Why does the left side of my face feel cold?' He thought 'Why is the floor so cold?'

Everything around Logan spun before turning black.

~I~

(Thomas)

"Well if it was for my 16th, Why am I getting it now?"

The silence of the conversation spread. No people, no talking. Nothing. The only noise that was visible was the pitter-patter on the window.

"Um," Thomas struggled, thinking of an excuse, "It's raining? I didn't know it was r-"

"Dad? You're avoiding the question..." His son sighed, trying to figure it out, "Why am I getting this roughly 6 years early?"

Thomas rushed to the curtains to hide behind them. It was actually raining outside. It felt calming. He just wanted to disappear right then and there.

"The reason I gave to you early is that...I might not be here when your 16..."

Patton swore he felt rain trickle down his face but weren't they inside?

~I~

(Logan)

His head was throbbing. Everything was sore. Half of his face felt cold. Slowly, he opened one of his eyes. he was still in the living room. 'What happened?' He thought, still not moving from the floor. The last he could actually recall was-

"Are you doing okay" A voice came.

Logan looked up to see...him

He was a beautiful blue mist colour. His hair curled around his face yet the black glasses he wore stood out. Freckles were dusted onto the...things? nose and cheeks. This...This was remarkable.

"Yeah, I'm fine" He choked out, sitting up.

He wiped his face to remove the excess saliva he might have had. Luckily, this gave him more of a chance to look at this.

"Well I'm sorry for scaring you back there," The Ghost stated, "You were touching my books and..."

Wait, Who is this? Logan still didn't know. The book had a little letter say, dearest-

Patton...

This ghost right in front of him was, Patton. The boy who did those paintings. The boy who father had to go. The boy with the harp.

The ghost giggled, "Guess you've worked it out, Logan"


End file.
